She who wakes my darkness will dwell forever in the light

Slip into desire
A breaking wave
A falling drop
Life disappears from the margins
Clawing into dreams
Holding onto purchase
That what may be in dreams may hold on
Long enough to be real
Conscious mind
Knows roads closed
Paths overgrown
Still a heart says maybe
Igniting kindling
Fires of need break
All thought but….
All thought fled
Replaced by maybe
Maybe and please
Your hand in mine
Never to part
A foolish dream that can’t help but live
Knowing the contours of a heart
Hands Pressing into the maze of you
Broken mirror hopes
Each reflection another chance to lose you
Each chance I’d take
For those few whiles you are mine before the end
Our jagged
Our broken
Complimentary pieces
Fitted together too late
My heart waits eternal
Saying someday
Saying wake beside me
In my arms
Safe
All hope lost
I know, I know
I fail, I fail
There is no thought that doesn’t contain you
My heart so foolish
To love and love and love
And never
Ever
Forget
That thin glass shard
Saying yes, yes this time

The untended garden grows thorns and blood, fed on roses

Desire assaults
Each stir
Each turn
Seeing
That tumultuous ache
Seeing a picture
Hearing a song
Memories burst in full
Each key turned blooms full into images of her
Unable to get away
Torn between the dream of her
Pushed away desires
Needs creeping in
Hearts dwell in the fantasy of might be
Every unaware moment
Pulled awake
burn on silent tongues
Her voice echos
wish it were merely loneliness
Loneliness fades
She only grows stronger

What can be known in the hidden heart

The space to allow love is one of the most important things in life. I have no larger point to make. Just that passion and love are the most powerful reasons to do anything. And when we allow that space for love, we are hurt. Pain is definitely a part of it. But also, moments of purity of heart, moments where we are love, if only for a few moments.
And any time I see love, a part of me feels triumphant and also despair. Which combines into a kind of melancholy ache and salt filled wound, coupled with a broken note of hope and beauty realized.

Distant song waking, into silence

Shifting against
Nude body splayed over
Head on shoulder
Hand captured
Fingers in mouth
Eyes rise
Electric connection
Desire and love blossom
Straddle and guide
Hand firm
Souls and bodies entwine
Heat
Lush
Lips devour
Tasting her
Her hand over heart
Pressing
Draping
Pulse spreads
Inside
Draws ragged gasps
Soft sound

Startled I wake
Eyes open
Scent of her lingers on still air
But I know she’s distant
Never was
Maybe never be
Still
Dreams and hearts
Connected
Desirous
Distance
Of little consequence
A choice away
Wishing I knew
What path lead to you

We are never more complicated than when we are open to love

It is easy to say that love is a choice and not a feeling. Because we want things to be one thing or another. We want uncomplicated and simple solutions. But this leads us to believe that if we no longer feel love that we should just choose to be with the person because we are choosing love. And that is fucking dangerous.

Yes, love should be a conscious choice. Don’t allow your feelings to rule but when your feelings of love are gone, it should be a flag to examine why.

Because love is a choice but the kind of choice it is, is to see. To see all that a person is and choose to love them. In the best way, it is to allow one’s feelings to develop from seeing who they are and each day realizing why you love them.

Now. That shit is easy to say. And some days it will be all you can do not to be super fucking annoyed by everything that they do, but the feeling of love will pull you through. And on the obverse side, if all you have is the feeling of love without the reasons that you love them….observe that. Because if you feel love but there is no quality in them that makes clear why, or if what you once loved has worn away and has been replaced by fear, uncertainty, and doubt…well that’s dangerous…

When memories thought inviolate slip away beyond reach

Feeling broken for no particular reason
No glaring signal saying this is the red flag
This is where the healing will begin
Instead just hurting
Just a bag full of empty
Spilling out over symptoms
The endless seeking of distractions
Anything to not think except in those moments between cease and sleep
Where all that was held away comes crashing down through paper walls which held it at bay
Thin constructs fooling myself that this is a normal life and these are normal activities
Fundamentally seeking but burned out from the search
Looking for a reprieve but places aren’t safety
Just defensible rooms
People have ever been my succor
Holding and taking care of those I love heals me
Keeps me going to the point where you say you want to see my darkness
But become Mired in light
Because the darkness retreats when my love is allowed expression
Wrong to say it’s gone but it retreats to lurk and wait in ambush
Too tired to even think about suicide
Instead yearning for sex, something passive, to be done to me while I curl and cry
Anything just to feel more than empty
I’ve been seconds from the ledge, one steps from jumping and still this all consumption of emotions is worse
This endless expanse of nothing
Stretched borders making for the treeline
Drowning in the blood of mourning
Lost without her Yes or Sir
Masters have demons too
Ours just seem like controlled because they are control
Perfection is a lost art
Artists lost in the false storms of embrace
A yes away from hell or salvation
One more chance
One more piece broken
One more piece of jagged glass
Still capable of cutting me free

Twin well springs join into a stream

The wind blows and the clatter sound of leaves fades to the soft shush but if I listen closely I hear the
Snap
Snap
Of leaf against leaf
Close in it must sound like a war
But in this distance
It’s only beauty

The rain falls and the pound of drops fades to the white noise which lulls so many to sleep but if I listen closely the
Pop
Pop
Of drops slamming into the ground at 9.8 meters per second per second
Close in sounds like a battle
But safe in my bed
It’s only dreams

Her voice sings and the tones that, in unfamiliarity say other, fades into the honeyed tones which tug me out of my reverie but if I listen closely the
Twang
Twang
Of tones bouncing in register
Close in sounds like the other
But in my heart
I hear only love

How do I explain that I hear both at the same time, see the sides and choose which piece to speak on?
But never forgetting that I’ve seen both, I just choose
Beauty

When is a decision not and instead a cell, open door afraid to walk through

Mind tendrils reaching out
Never quite touching the ones I’ve loved
Words caught in throat
Thinking not to impose
Not to make known
Thoughts always seeking
Touching
Seeing
Still there?
Still living
Never cared for the holidays
Feeling hypocritical asking how you spent it
As if those minutes of minutia excuse the month or more of silence
Time stretches
Stories left untold
Wishing even the scritch of the pen would come
When sound catches throat
But even there
The hesitation grows

Wanting to say
I love you
Not that it matters
Stretching out just to say hi
But failing
Happy Thanksgiving?
No
Cast instead
Voice to the ether
That it be just as lost as I